Sirens of the Blood
by FoulkseyDarkRose
Summary: The Winchesters swing into the small town of Mystic Falls after a series of typically mysterious deaths, all including major blood loss and bite marks. To gather more information about the inner workings of the tight-lipped town, Sam goes undercover as a teacher in the local high school and there he meets some interesting players, including a sweet blonde named Caroline. Sam's POV
1. The Boys Are Back In Town

**_Sirens of the Blood_**

**_Chapter One - The Boys Are Back In Town_**

_Sam Winchester POV (as it will be throughout)_

* * *

It was only Tuesday and already there were hoards of teenagers smoking in the middle of the car park. They had to practically shuffle out of the way of Dean's driving as he swung the Impala into the last remaining space - with a soothing and familiar flick of the wrist. One of the guys looked about seventeen or eighteen, judging from the emptiness of his eyes and the scowl on his face, and he glared at Sam's elder brother straight in the eye – as if he could take him in a fight. For what? Parking in a free car park? _Oh, the horror._ Dean glared right back, Sam knew without looking, but he didn't bother to check. Sam had other things on his mind. For one, he could never figure why these normal people always complained about their life. At least they weren't the Boy King, Lucifer's vessel or an ex-demon blood junkie... wow, his life really was sucky sometimes. Still at least he was all in one piece, sort of. And alive, barely. As the Impala came to a halt, jolting him out of his mind web, Sam glanced up at the vision to his right. It was a sight he thought he would never be a part of again. Never to get those butterflies in his stomach, hoping this time would be different and that Dad would let him stay in one place or more than a few weeks; he never did.

But finally, this time was different.

Dean cleared his throat from the driver's seat, "Are you sure you wanna do this, Sammy? It's not like you're exactly peachy right now and-"

"Shut up, Dean. We've done this before and it's gone fine. Just, gimme a sec, okay?" The elder brother held up his large hands in surrender with an annoyingly innocent look on his face. Damn, did Sam hate it when he did that. Supposedly he was the older one, the more mature brother. Although he had gotten used to it by now, things in his lie never being as they should. At least now, as he turned once more to look up at the high school, he thought, _at least now I can pretend to be normal, even if it is just for a little while._ There, he could do it. He had overcame freaking Lucifer himself, he could fake teach some kids a class in Law. The cool handle of the shotgun side door had never felt better in his hand. Sam reached one of his arms down easily – one of the many reasons why he loved his huge height – and wrapped the strap of the plaid coloured rucksack around one wrist. The students around him made appreciative and awe-struck sounds as he clambered out of the Impala to stand on the car park gravel; it was nothing he wasn't used to and to be honest he just took it in his stride these days. With one hand he tapped the roof of the car, which Dean revved up, whilst Sam pulled the bag onto one shoulder with his other hand.

"Have a great first day, Sammy!" Dean bellowed through the open car window, jacking the Impala into gear and reversing out of the space. Sam noticed that many of the teenagers around the car park had stopped what they were doing to watch his brother over enthusiastically drive off the school property. It wasn't until Dean's arm came out of the moving car to give Sam a thumbs up that he sighed at his older brother. _Wait for it, _Sam grimly thought, _any second now.._

_It was the heaaaaaat of the moment. Heaaaaaat of the moment._

"REALLY DEAN? HOW SUPPORTIVE!" Sam shouted after the Impala as it made a U-turn to exit onto the actual road. Dean _knew_ how much that song annoyed him, especially after that ground-hog day moment Gabriel had put him through a few years back, where Dean died every day. Sam sighed and turned to look at the school again. The students had stopped staring and where back to gossiping about some upcoming party at a popular girl's house, or something. Sam didn't really care. All he saw was the sign. Underneath a large oak tree, which leaves fluttered in the wind and seemed to glow in the sunlight, was a long, rectangle brick work sign. It announced with big blood-red uppercase letters that he was now entering: Mystic Falls High School. Sam felt his feet take him up onto the curb, across the grass and over to the sign. He stared at it, eating every detail, every dent, every graffiti. How did these people walk past such a permanent thing every day and not realise how important it is? How important their lives are? How lucky they were?

Maybe he was just different.

"Uh-hum." Came a voice from behind his back. Sam whirled around, expecting Crowley or some other enemy to be there ready to rub it all in his face. His eyes widened at what _was _there. It was a girl. Just that: a girl. She was quite tall, almost as tall as Dean's height, with a gorgeous face. Her eyes are wide, like she was permanently in awe of something, and they were the sort of colour that seemed to change between blue and green just by blinking. She had, how else could he describe it, a perfect face. Her hair was waving a blonde, like Jess' is... _was. Dammit, it's been eight years, Sam, _he scolded himself internally. Now was not the best time to think about your dead college girlfriend. The best time for that was never. Sam blinked, forcing himself not to tear up like he always did when he thought of her. Oh, Jess..

"Hey, hey! Are you okay? What's your name?" The girl asked, grabbing him by the elbow. He hadn't even realised he had gone weak at knees and was about to hit the ground; the girl by his side held him up steadily. She was surprisingly strong.

He opened his mouth to say sorry and thank you but all that came out was, "S-sam," He coughed to clear the bile from his throat. Even the weather had gotten colder and the light no longer seemed as inviting, "My name's Sam Winchester. Thanks, erm, miss..?"

The girl laughed sweetly, "I'm Caroline Forbes and you, my friend, are as drunk as a skunk. Come on." Caroline, somehow, lifted him up back onto his feet. She held him steady with one delicate hand on his chest – just above his heart by some coincidence – watching him like a hawk for any sign that he was going to break. Sweet. Sam laughed, regaining his strength easily after a few seconds. He'd come back from much, much worse.

"I'm not drunk, honest. Just- erm – nerves; first day and all that." He bullshitted from the heart, it came so easily to him these days. Although, he couldn't think way he had told her his real name. Him and Dean had already decided to call him Charles Bradbury as a private joke about their rebellious girl friend Charlie.

"Seriously? You're a bit old for high school aren't you? You're like, what, twenty?" Caroline asked, hooking her arm into the crook in his as they turned slightly left to make their way towards the school enterance. Her skin was so cold, it was nice on his arm.

"Twenty seven." He puffed his lower lip out and looked down. Was he that old already?! He felt like he was still a fifteen year old most days, being looked after by his elder brother day in and day out. Not much had changed, really, apart from Sam. He himself had changed a lot.

"No. Way. You totally don't look it – well, here we are." Caroline had stopped with a hand frozen on the glass of the entrance door. It was lined with a red metal to match the outside of the brick building. _This town sure likes the colour red_, he thought. She sighed then looked up at Sam apologetically, eye brows raised and mouth widened.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"It's just – well – I recently went through his whole change and everything's different now and I can't face something as mundane as school any more. I mean, it used to mean everything to me but now, especially ever since Stefan came to town.. it's all changed because of him but Elena can't see that and she's not even bothering to help me but Bonnie and Matt are and it just makes me question who my friends are, you know? And now my mom hates me and now Ty -... oh, my god. I am so sorry," Caroline shook her head, removing her palm from the door to cover her face from him. "I -I don't always know what I'm talking about. Just, ignore that. Please." She removed the hands away from her face and looked him in the eye. Her beautiful eyes seemed to reflect everything, they were so captivating and he felt himself slipping into them but then..her pupils dilated massively.

"Whoa! Are you okay, Caroline? Your eyes-"

"Crap! It didn't work. Damon told me that would work if I put more effort into it," She practically stomped her feet in frustration. "I'm so sorry, Sam, it being your first day and all. I shouldn't be this... jumpy." Sam felt the relief slip onto his face but something inside of him was screaming that something was seriously not.. natural here. Even so, he found her outbreak kind of funny.

"It's okay," He smiled wider than he had smiled for years at this beautifully awkward girl, "Tell me about it later? Over coffee?"

"Sure," She smiled just as wide, if not wider than he did. Watching her eyes though, and having as much experience with liars as he did, Sam knew there was more to her than met the eye. Maybe she knew something about the victims completely drained of blood throughout town. If it meant a free date, then doing some research on the people of the town from a talk-active girl wasn't such a bad idea. He felt bad for using her but.. people were dying. And people dying were his priority right now.

Sam reached for the door and opened it for her, signalling for her to enter the building first. She curtsied with surprising gracefulness, as though she was well practised, and walked past him. Inches away from his chest and it was obviously on purpose by the look on her face. They walked into the corridor together and Sam breathed in the ancient smell of teenage desperation, mouldy food and books of his distant memories. It brought up both good and bad ghosts of the past but.. it was still familiar, even though it was a different state and different high school. Caroline swung round in several circles, spinning on her heel. Sam hadn't even bothered to see what she was wearing before... it was a cheerleaders outfit with cowboy boots. Damn.

"H-how old are you, Caroline?"

She smiled at him knowingly, "Eighteen, graduating next week hopefully.. if I ever get to class," Caroline indicated to the empty halls with a thumb. She took off running, a little leather bag he didn't even notice before bouncing against her side. Her hair flew behind her like, like literal waves, "See ya round, Sam!"

Her voice seemed to echo off the walls of the corridor, off every locker and off every light; it was stupid really but something told Sam that his girl was different. Maybe it was the left over demon blood in his system or his premonitions but he knew, just knew that there was something more to her. She wasn't shallow like those kiddie pools on the television adverts he used to see as a child, no. Caroline Forbes was abyss deep. Like, Lucifer's pit deep. Sam immediately regretted that comparison but it was true. There was something thrilling about her.

And Sam was gonna figure her out, whilst Dean did the job of finding the supernatural being that was killing people and sucking their blood. Maybe, for once, Sam could keep a girl safe

* * *

**Author's Note: This is my first ever Sam POV so please tell me if I completely and utterly got his voice wrong. Review, etc. **


	2. It's The Little Details

**_Sirens of the Blood_**

**_Chapter Two: It's Little Details_**

* * *

The day was hard and long, Sam could feel it draining him slowly.. but it was nice. This feeling was similar to the one he felt after every hunt: he felt stronger, more confident, more in control. Who knew teaching was so hard?

"Erm, sir? Isn't the law, like, the law? So what law said, the law _is_ the law?" asked one of the crack kids Sam had seen earlier – the one Dean had locked eyes with. This guy, he was every Latin American in colouring. Pitch black hair, crooked nose and full lips. Usually Sam didn't notice that type of thing – _he wasn't into 'Dick'_ _like Dean was _– but most of the girls in his class seemed to. Apparently, from what he could make out, his guy was a typical jock; on the football team and a complete idiot. Sam always hated those types of guys, and he couldn't help but glare at the boy for a while too long. The kid was rocking on his chair at the back for god's sake! Who does that? Sam sighed and lent his elbows on the mahogany desk in front of him.

"Well, Mr.. .erm...," He checked the class seating plan underneath his right elbow for the guy's name. Tyler Lockwood. Sam couldn't help but notice that Caroline was supposed to be in this third period class, sat right in front of Tyler. The seat was empty. Huh. Sam paused before thinking of what his old favourite teacher would say – the only person to ever ask him what he wanted to do when he was older, the only man to ever give him another option than the life of a hunter. Sam raised his head slowly, a hand to his neck to try to rub out the fresh crinkles there. Jeez, teaching high school kids was frustrating. He stared at Tyler with his head slightly tilted. "Mr Lockwood. That is a very interesting question, but let's stay on topic of the Law in Mystic Falls. Can anyone tell me anything about the hierarchy of order in this town? Anything would be great." There was silence but several students made an attempt to put their hands up. He nodded at a young brunette who was sat directly to Tyler's left.

"There's the mayor, she's in charge of pretty much everything." The girl said, glancing sideways at Tyler like they were sharing some sort of personal joke. Sam lent back in his chair, it was a red leather thing that was seriously comfy.

"Thank you, Miss..?"

"Gilbert, Mr Winchester. Elena Gilbert." Sam looked at her sharply. Hadn't Caroline mentioned someone called Elena?

"Friends with Caroline Forbes?" He asked, trying to be subtle, only to have several people in the room stiffen at her name. Two girls and three boys – including that Tyler kid and Elena – all began to look at each other like... something. He had seen the look before but that was on Dean's face as he and Bobby locked Sam in that panic room in Bobby's cellar. God, that as a horrible memory. Sam squinted slightly, and ran a chalk-covered hand through his hair as a way to try to block it out. Those kids, they must be trying to protect Caroline from something? From a 'substitute teacher'? That was a bit weird, even for Sam. When Elena began to whisper to the girl on her other side, Sam said, "Is there something wrong?"

"N-nothing, sir."

"That's good, now can someone tell me what were to happen in this town if someone murdered someone else?" It was Dean's idea, to pose as a Law teacher because then they could find out who was in charge of this place and find out some more info on the four vics' backgrounds. To be honest, Sam was surprised he hadn't thought of it earlier himself. Anyway, it seemed to be working. By the time a really obnoxious bell sounded the end of the period, Sam knew the name's of all the major players in town and also who the 'founding families# were. Interestingly, Gilbert, Forbes and Lockwood were all part of that group; apparently their ancestors had practically built the town, along with a few others. One of the vic's was the aunt of Elena Gilbert, Sam found that out by accident when one of the other students brought it up. Elena and her friends had glared at the girl until she shut up. Apart from that though, those kids never even talked for the rest of the lesson, in fact when they began to pack up to leave they completely blanked Sam out.

This place was just getting stranger by the minute.

Sam sighed again. This was all really surreal, he never even dreamed he would ever get to talk about Law again. It reminded him of Jess and the night he got his LSATs results back. He had worked so hard for it and Jess had been so happy when he had announced his score of 174; in fact she called it a freaky score. Of course, that was also a few days before he found her. Found her burning on the ceiling. He could still see her, even after all these years. He could picture her on the ceiling at the furthest end of the classroom and watch the blood as it dropped from her gashed belly onto Elena's desk below. Sam could hear each splatter, each patter as it landed. Eyes smashed shut, he tried to block it out. Oh, he tried so hard. He thought of the Cage, Lucifer, Purgatory, Amelia, Sarah, Cas... anything and anyone to get her out of his head. To stop the memory of her screams as she burnt to death above him. He lost track of how long he sat there, staring at the ceiling with closed eyes and fists gripping the edge of the desk. There was a knock at the door.

"Erm, Sam, are you okay?" Sam pried open his left eye slightly to see her standing in the doorway of the classroom, her face wrinkled in concern for him again. She had changed into something a little more covering, he saw, floral dress and denim jacket. Hair tied up.

"Caroline. I'm fine, just..." He trailed off. He couldn't tell her anything that didn't sound remotely crazy.

"... coffee?"

"What?"

"Let's get some coffee in you, or something a little stronger. Come on, the Grille is only down the road." She glided into the room and, like a mini whirl wind, had all of his stuff packed in barely any time at all. He was hesitant, even with her stood there wearing his rucksack for him. She obviously saw this when she added, "There's a pool table." Sam smiled. He was amazing at pool, it had saved his and Dean's broke asses more times than he really wanted to admit. Caroline moved to the corridor and looked back at him over her shoulder.

"Coffee sounds good." He replied with a weak smile. She came back and grabbed him by the upper arm and walked with him as they had done earlier that morning. It was nice. Nice to hear the echo of two on the reflective pale creamy brown floor. To see their reflections in the glass door mirrors of each classroom they past. The smell of teenage hope, freshly painted red walls and books; he had missed it. So much. He and Caroline walked in a comfortable silence out of the building.

"Car-"

"No," She interrupted, not even glancing up at him this time, "Wait until we get there."

So he did and this gave him a chance to check out the town from face value. As they just kept walking for a long while, he tried to take note of everything. The school was at the end of a straight road, trees either side as you approached it. It was summer so the trees were full of green, bright brilliant green. It reminded Sam of, grossly, Dean's eyes. The colour of the sunlight was so simple, but something Sam wouldn't want to miss for the world. It was a yellowy brown, like it was tainted somehow, more of a cream..? Sam wasn't too good with colours. It wasn't his area. _O_h, he thought as he realised where he had seen it before,_ it's the colour of Castiel's trench coat_. Cas...

"Yes, Sam?"


	3. Familiar Faces

**_Sirens of the Blood_**

**_Chapter Three – Familiar Faces_**

* * *

The familiar huskiness of the little angel came from directly behind him. Caroline screamed and jumped immediately into some kind of kung-fo fighting pose, but Sam laughed at her. He put a hand on her shoulder and she slowly calmed down.  
"I-It's okay, he's a friend of mine," Sam turned to the angel and did something he had wanted to do in so long. He hugged him. "Cas, I've missed you! Ever since you left the bunker we've been worried, or, well I have but Dean is-"

"Dean is angry with me." Sam pulled away to look at Cas' face. Cas was just Cas, he looked like an average man in his thirties. He wore the same as he had always worn: a pair of black dress shoes, an unbuttoned black suit jacket and pants, a white shirt and a loosened blue tie with his trench coat. He usually had black unruly hair and blue glistening eyes, so angelic that Sam knew there was no doubting his roots. But now... he was unshaven, his eyes were dulled and he looked vaguely ill. Sam felt his face drop, what had happened to him? Surely this wasn't all about Dean... Caroline coughed and stepped forward. Cas stared at her for a millisecond, frowned and glanced at Sam with even more worry on his face, before stiffly allowing her to shake his hand.

"Hi, I'm Caroline Forbes." She said. Castiel just blinked at her, before stepping around her to be closer to Sam.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know Cas," Sam immediately knew he was talking about Dean, but he had no idea where his older brother was searching for information so he just lifted his arms in agitation and shot a look at Caroline, who was stood just off the pavement in a patch of well manicured grass. They had reached the middle of town, apparently, somehow. That was weird, he could of sworn... anyway, hopefully she would understand. When he looked back to the angel, he was staring off into the distance above Sam's shoulder. He thought of an idea, a stupid one, but still an idea. "How about you come with us? Caroline, this is Castiel. He's a, ugh, friend of me and my brother. Cas, say hello to Caroline."

"Erm," Cas' eyes widened at that. Sam smiled at him until Cas turned to the girl and awkwardly said, "Hello, Miss Forbes."

"Hi, uh, Castiel. Nice to meet you. Sam, can I talk to you for just a sec?" It was her turn to come closer to Sam. She whispered, "I just thought we were going to have some time to, ugh, get to know each other. Like in the movies, boy meets girl. You know?" And then under her breath she said, "I need to find out who the hell you are."

"I'm sorry, he's an old friend. We can still talk. Cas – he likes to watch people, study them. He's naturally calm and... well, strange. So just give him a chance."

"Okay," She nodded and smiled brightly up at him again. She grabbed Cas by the arm, it seemed to be her thing, and laughed at the obvious discomfort on his face. Sam nearly laughed himself when they started to walk towards the crossroads at the centre of town: a rebellions angel, ex-blood junkie and high school class skipper walk into a bar...

They walked in silence. Their only sounds were Cas squinting at Caroline for overly long periods of time and Sam occasionally shooting warning looks at him around her back, with Caroline laughing at them both, only for Cas to stare at her incredulously again. It took them barely two minutes to reach the outside of the Grille. It was a simple building, old a green plaster brick outlay with a modern sign.. it seemed pretty cool actually. Better than most small town diners same had been to, and he had been to more than he could count. It only had two front facing windows though, with some cheap seating outside. Obviously a laid back place, he could tell. He was even looking forward to seeing the inside, until Sam saw that Elena and her friends were seated various places outside. As their little threesome past, they stiffened. A boy of around Caroline's age, seated between where Sam walked and where Elena was sat, even looked at Caroline in shock. Castiel looked upon them all with the same incredulous look he gave Caroline; Sam looked at her, she was watching his reaction to it all. Well, this was going to be a weird evening...

Sam coughed, "Caroline, we can go inside and get a table if you want to..." He indicated to her friends with the best smile he could muster. Caroline nodded and sat down next to Elena Gilbert, who immediately grabbed her hand. Like he had said, weird. He pulled Castiel by his trenchcoat cuff into the Grille. It was dark. He blinked to readjust to the light, and he could have gasped. The room was huge, with two levels. A lower level covered the majority of the room, which had a massive four-way fire in to the side of it, had the bar and some booths. To the left, was a raised platform where pool tables and some high tables where. It was awesome. He wasn't half surprised to see Dean there, lounging at the bar, taking shots with a similar aged guy in a black leather jacket. Castiel suddenly appeared in his side vision, with a slightly wanting expression.

"Go and say hi," Sam offered, as the two of them watched his brother laugh and thump this guy on the back. Sam knew Dean wasn't entirely straight, or he suspected it. But it was a slight shock to see Cas' expression was he watched him. _Profound bound my ass,_ Sam thought. When Cas made no attempt to move, Sam walked around the fire in the center and seat next to Dean, dragging the angel to stand just behind him.

"Hello, Dean." The angel said, with a hard hit on the arm from Sam. They watched as Dean stiffened and turned slowly to look at Castiel. Sam watched Dean's face and.. there is was. Complete and utter calm came over his brother's features as he saw that Cas was alive. And then, as quick as anything, he smiled. Sam breathed out a vast amount of air. Thank god, he half expected Dean to explode at the angel.

"Hey, Cas..., Sam?" Dean turned to look at his younger brother and Sam pulled him in for a hug.

"Dean, find anything _interesting_?" Sam asked, knowing the guy behind Dean's turned back would be able to hear everything if they weren't subtle. Luckily, the stupid brother caught on.

"Nope, nothing."

"Vampires are everywhere in this town," Castiel said, only to be hit by both brothers. Sam saw the Dean's drinking buddy stiffen, like the people outside, and leave the bar to go outside. He walked really, really fast. Weird. Meanwhile Dean was scolding the angel..  
"CAS! You can't just smoke up a pipe like that in public!"

"I do not smoke, Dean."

"Dean-" Sam tried to interupt.

" - Shut up, Sam. Cas, do you know what it was like, huh? Knowing I had – I had said- and you just went? Left us like you always do. Where were you?"

"Dean, I'm so-"

"- If you say you're sorry I swear to Chuck that I will go Glenn Close on your lily white ass., you -"

"SHUT UP," Sam hissed and hit Dean really hard over the back of the head. "You're buddy just ran all the way home. There's a bunch of kids outside and they reacted to me like I had herpes or something. I think, maybe, there is here."

"Nah, you think?"

"Shut up, Dean." Sam mumbled, and turned to the bar. He took a swig from the bourbon whiskey neat that was sitting next to Dean's exposed elbow. It burned his throat but helped him think clearly, he peaked at the others. Cas just stared at Dean, and Dean stared at Cas. Sam couldn't bare it any more, "Stow your little domestic shit for later, guys, we need a plan."

Both of them glared at Sam with equal measures of annoyance, confusion and surprise. Sam shook his head. "First off, who is a vampire in here, Cas? Can you tell?"

"Yes, their sins are as clear as a cross on their forehead. It's almost distracting... there's one." Cas pointed to the door just as a group of people entered. Sam noticed a certain someone who walked in, too.

"Oh shit," Dean and Sam said at the same time when they saw her.

"Amanda?!" Dean scoffed, staring at her legs without subtly, "Damn. She's hotter than last year." Sam turned to glare at him, as Caroline stared at Dean from a few metres away from them, her gaze jumping from Sam to Dean with intense confusion wrinkling her face.

"That's Caroline, Dean. Caroline Forbes. She's a sort of, new friend of mine." Sam told him slowly. Was Dean's head fried or something?

"Dude I swear, last year when you were off somewhere, I came here for no reason, really. That's why I was so chummy with that guy, it was Damon Salvatore, we're old buddies... But that's Amanda Herckeling and we, erm, you know-"

"Dean? Dean Smith?" Caroline asked him from where she stood, mouth a gawk. Sam couldn't believe this was happening. _Caroline, or Amanda, had slept with Dean? _

"_I'm sorry, w_hat the hell is going on here_?" _Sam finally burst in a low shout of disarray. All three pairs of eyes stared at him before all talking at once.


	4. Alcoholics Anonymous

_**Sirens of the Blood**_

_**Chapter Four – Alcoholics Anonymous**_

* * *

Underwater ringing. That's what it felt like. A moaning ring echoed to certain parts of his brain on a constant loop, unable to breathe, unable speak. On pause. He felt this before – assuming the vessel of Lucifer role was like being on a perpetual pause.

Only this time wasn't about any kind of angel.

"Sam, I can explain everything. Just, just calm down." Caroline was saying, in some mediocre attempt to soothe him. She even looked a little sad. In the long run, Sam knew he was acting childish, but damn. Why did this always happen to him? He stood up, hands large in defeat. He couldn't.. couldn't handle it any more.

"Sammy," that was Dean.

Sam found it impossible to bring himself to even say another word. The room was smaller. Where had all the air gone? The ringing got louder. He had to get out, get away. He ran through the room, sending waiting staff and customers squealing to avoid him. Soon, he reached it. The ink blotted hand before him came into contact with the door in a surprising burst of pleasure. Doors meant a lot in symbolism, his year at college had taught him, they meant new beginnings. Freedom. Rebirth, all that crap. But one thing stuck in his mind as his throbbing palm applied more than enough pressure to the smoothed out metal surface and flung the door open. He recited the thought over and over. The wind picked up but the tender sun could still be felt upon his broad shoulders as he took a single step outside. His friends may have called to him, but he couldn't hear them over the waves of betrayal. He couldn't hear anything but that one dull, useless bit of information he could remember: Janus, god of the past and future, doorways, was often depicted with two-faces. _Two-faced. _Just like Caroline Forbes, or Amanda, or whatever the hell her name was when she hooked up with his brother. Why was it always Dean?

Sam kept walking, kicking invisible gravel along street after street. Hands in his pockets. Shoulders rounded. He felt like a teenager again. The skin around his nostrils tensed, widening the air passages and this erected his chin. It always hurt when he liked someone, someone he even began to trust, and they stabbed him in the back - which in itself happened far too many times. Overeager; that was his problem. Never loved, so loves too much like some kind of sick joke. His life was a joke. What the hell was he doing? He didn't even know the first thing about teaching. These kids couldn't tell them anything the internet wouldn't. They were more or less idiots. Harmless, but idiots. Or maybe that wasn't the problem. Maybe the problem was that Sam was still hanging onto little Sammy after all this time. That Sammy who had stood, amazed, when a kindly teacher had asked him what he wanted to be when he was older. That Sammy who fought with his elder, stronger brother over the last bowl of lucky charms. The Sammy who had dared to argue with his father, dared to dream, dared to want to be normal. Dared to want the life that his mother had wanted for him; but his mother was dead. She had died a long time ago. Was he disappointing her, or himself? Either way, he was doing something wrong. He must be, to be punished with so much loss and fear and outright _pain_. It wasn't that he was upset about Caroline-Amanda, it was the idea of her; sweet, innocent, kind and beautiful girl helps new, young teacher in those rare moments of weakness. It sounded like one of those chick flicks Dean never let him watch. And now even she was gone -

"You lost, big guy?" Sam looked up, finally resurfacing from under the water of his mind. He had walked to a part of town he and Dean hadn't looked at yet. It was quieter, the houses and gardens were much bigger and even the road was wider. Ubiquitous features lined the road – he stood in a shadow cast by an impressive tree. It was about a hundred feet tall with the strangest leaves, they were a light green but flayed out like children's grabbing hands. His changeable brown eyes searched the empty area in front of him for the source of the voice. From nowhere, a small man was a few feet away from him.

"I said, are you lost?" The man repeated. Sam nearly laughed at the sight of him. The dude, he could have sworn he had seen him from somewhere before, wore a ridiculously tight black top and dark jeans and dark shoes. Even his hair was dark. The guy's eyebrows practically met in the folds above his glabella and nose - in fact his frown was so tight he was almost pouting. Sam felt his own eyebrows lift and his mouth widen. Don't laugh.. don't laugh...

"Um, yes actually. I was just, erm, admiring your tree?" He wanted to hit himself, as an afterthought he pointed pathetically up at the tree in question. The other guy seemed to relax – he released his poor eyebrows from their monster grip anyway – and smirked. Sam had to physically hold himself back from laughing at this point.

"Oh, right. Well, all I know is that it's a tree. Wood. Bark. Whatever other tree-related puns possible," The guy leant against the tree and stuck out a hand for Sam to shake. He was like, what, five foot ten or something? Definitely smaller than Dean and Bobby. Even smaller than Garth, and Sam didn't know a single guy smaller than spot-welding, hunter Garth. Adorable. "Damon. Salvatore."

"Oh, erm, Sam Winchester." Damon froze up at the mention of his name. Was Sam Winchester a household name already? _Whoa, that was fast._ The moment, however, went as soon as it came and Damon was back to being the standard image of Virginian kindness. "New around here, huh, Sam?"

"Um, just arrived yesterday."

"I see – would you like to come in for some Salvatore famous bourbon? It's a delicacy." Damon came behind Sam and almost forced him to walk the driveway. Sam let out a tittering laugh, he could handle a little guy like this after all – he barely came to his shoulder for God's sake. And to be honest, if Sam had enough muscle to take on some demons? Yeah, he could totally watch himself for a miniature sized male.

"Sure, so you're family made bourbon then?" Sam asked, trying to fill the silence.

"Oh, god no. We just drink it like we did." He couldn't say he'd ever been in this situation before but he was sure this Damon guy wasn't too bad. And.. free whiskey. He could do with some strong, cold whiskey. Sam soon reached some well-manicured grass. It was sure a dramatic house – there was no other way of seeing it. Regal. It was a huge 'L'-shaped building, with the two sides near the bend joined by a diagonal brick wall. It had slight turrets and sticking out parts, it was imperfect. A cross between English Tudor and American Suburbia. All browns and wooden and cross-hatched windows. Sam had never seen anything like it and he loved it. He must have gasped or something because Damon added, "Great, isn't it? Been in my family since the 1800's but it's just me and my brother now."

Damon was now stood to Sam's side and they walked together around the circular grass that formed a round-a-bout sort of thing that broke the driveway into two. Damon had a brother. Maybe he would understand...

"A brother?" he asked. Damon nodded towards the porch-like wooden ornament at the diagonal wall. There, Sam now saw, was a teenage guy stood with his hands behind his back. And, surprisingly, Sam recognised him as one of the guys in his class. Salvatore... Salvatore... stiles? Steve? "Stefan."

"My baby bro. Annoying punk, but you gotta love them, right? Excuse me a sec, he seems to be more brooding than usual. Let yourself in, though. Bourbon's in a crystal bottle on a table by the fire-place." And off the guy went, running up some brick stairs and soon he and Stefan were walking around to the back of the house. The brothers were soon out of view. Whiskey. Sam quickly jogged up the right set of stairs, taking three or four at a time easy, and was soon inside. It – like the Grille – had a dark, wooden feel to the place yet airy and homely. Sam wondered what it was like to have a home, a home like this. A home where you could shut the heavy, protective door and walk into different levels of a living room. Learn all the nooks, all the crannies. That creaky floor board just at the lower left-hand corner of the Persian rug covering the floor before the roaring fireplace. Sam did just that, imagining himself carrying out these actions daily, getting more regular. The Men Of Letters bunker was okay, Dean sure liked it; personally Sam knew there was more to life than military maps and books and records and Dean's burgers and beef jerky. Here. This place- where the fire burned even during the day – where the leather seats angled towards the fire slightly smooshed as he lowered his body into it – where the heat and the warmth made you feel safe and secure.

Sam, now finally feeling built up knots of muscle and nerves untangling in a bitter-sweet pleasure that made his eyelids struggle to stay open, reached for the crystal bottle Damon had described. It was cool in his hand as he watched the liquid swish in circles. He braced himself and solemnly brought the glass to his aching lips. He sipped. The flavours exploded in his mouth. It was obviously an old aged whiskey – from what Sam knew from his many experiences with alcohol. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he did drink way more than the average healthy person, but it was so much less than Dean used to and if anyone had an excuse to, who did more than they? He just tried to think about nothing but the taste of the Bourbon whiskey in his mouth and the heat of the fire on his skin – try to be like when he didn't have his soul. At least back then he couldn't feel. _Stop it, _the hunter told himself. The whiskey. Whiskey. It was creamy, smooth, ancient. It tasted as though he was eating wood. A fallen branch from a tree, cracked along the ridges of the naked core, unnaturally exposed at one end to the evil of the world. He could imagine he bent down in the woods over this dying branch, sniffing the end like an addict to heroine. It was his friend, his family, and the only thing that understood him.

Sam heard a light shuffle from behind him, up on the slightly elevated level of the room. He looked back, annoyed that he was broken from his trance, only to find no-one there. Back to the bourbon. He smelled it, attempting to reach the woods once more only to have his dream shattered by a screaming blonde.

"DAMON, NO!"


End file.
